


It was a Dark and Stormy Night

by LadyMuzzMuzz



Series: A Human Heart [2]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, An AU of Human Heart, An AU of an AU, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:16:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29918850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMuzzMuzz/pseuds/LadyMuzzMuzz
Summary: An AU of an AU oneshot.  I'm falling into a wormhole of AU's....
Relationships: Nero's Mother/Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Series: A Human Heart [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2200140
Comments: 18
Kudos: 26





	It was a Dark and Stormy Night

**Author's Note:**

> An AU of an AU oneshot. I'm falling into a wormhole of AU's....

Hannah gently rocked the precious bundle, swaddled in black flannel, as its contents slowly drifted into hopefully, sweet and pleasant dreams, despite the flashes of lightning and thunder. It had been a rough couple of months, but she would never regret it. Never regret the countless whispers, the wagging tongues dripping poison in the market, the murmured insults of ‘harlot’, and ‘easy’ directed at her. No, she didn’t regret anything, but she did worry about the insults that would inevitably be thrown towards her little baby boy.

_Her little Nero._

  
  
Saviour judge her as He may, but her little prince was innocent in all of this. Some claimed behind her back that the babe was her divine punishment for succumbing to her primal urges, but nothing could be further from the truth. Nero was no punishment, he was her pride and joy. No book, no masterpiece she could ever write would compare to him. He was beautiful, with his ice blue eyes, his chubby fingers, in infectious giggles, and his downy white hair. She had heard new parents claiming their newborn was ‘perfect’, and only now did she realize how true it was.

Nero ate well, followed growth charts, and even slept for longer periods of time than she had expected. The only issue, and it was a minor one to be sure, that the moment someone other than her held him, it didn’t matter if he was in a deep sleep, he would instantly jerk awake, and start wailing. The few people that didn’t treat her as persona non grata on the island claimed that the child was far too fussy, that she should let him cry it out. Because she was a single mother, her son would never get the ‘correct’ style of love. The love of a ‘real’ family.

But that might change, for she had spent her moments not taking care of her little boy looking for his father. He hadn’t known, and even she hadn’t, when he left her that one evening, almost without a trace.

Nero, almost as if he could sense her mood, reached out sleepily and grasped her finger, where the silver and amethyst ring sat snugly, the last gift from his father to her. Or, as she mused, his second last gift to her. 

And just like the gifter, it was both as practical AND useful, as she had found out one day at the market. She knew of her… but hadn’t started showing yet, so she was distracted to the point that she hadn’t even noticed the screams of people fleeing from a demon attack. She was left exposed, undefended… but then, to her astonishment, the demons passed around her, like flowing water around a rock set in the middle of a stream, close enough that she could smell their rancid breath. Vergil hadn’t been lying, the ring did have powers, and the moment that Nero was old enough, she’d bestow it on him. She would protect him with everything she had, if she couldn’t find his father.

Speaking of which, she thought to herself as she set the baby down in his dinosaur themed crib, it was time to follow a lead that she had received that afternoon. If she had to leave the island to find Vergil, she would do it without a second thought. Not that there was much left for here anyways.

Now that little Nero was asleep, Hannah hurriedly opened the envelope, trying to temper her excitement. Her contact, a gentleman named Mr. Morrison had given her hope. The man he represented, fit the description to a T. White hair, blue eyes, pale skin, was very good at fighting demons. Sure, his name didn’t match, but she knew Vergil had already gone under one pseudonym, Gilver, to enter the island. It made sense that he might go under another one, one related to his true name, a name such as…

_Dante.._

But, as she pulled the photo out, her spirits fell. The resemblance was uncanny, but she was certain he wasn’t her Vergil. This man must be closely related though, perhaps a brother? (Vergil had not spoken of his family, but the way he had been almost courteous, almost gentle with the orphans of the island, she had assumed that he had shared their plight).

Vergil didn’t smile like that, not even for her, and while he had mentioned how much he liked the way she looked in her red dress (which had quickly come off after that, she remembered with a blush), he had never worn that colour, preferring blue. And this man wielded guns, something she’d never seen Vergil with. 

She was crushed, it was another dead end. But perhaps.... If this ‘Dante’ was related to Vergil, perhaps he could help lead her to him, so she could give him the news that the young man was a father. How he would react, she hadn’t thought that far. She could only hope that he would be there for his son, even if his relationship with her was over. Carefully, she began to write.

_Dear Dante,_ _  
_ _My name is Hannah Scriba, and I am contac-_

**KNOCK KNOCK**

So startled was she by the sound, that she dropped the pen, and it rolled down off the desk. Who in the world would be at her door in the middle of the night, and in the middle of a storm to boot? She hesitated. She hadn’t had many, if any visitors since Nero’s birth, but if someone was braving this weather, they must be here under great need. Pushing the correspondence in a corner, she got up and cautiously went to the door. 

She didn’t know what she would expect to open her door to, but it certainly wasn’t hooded hunched form, his cloak soaked and bedraggled from the driving rain. For a brief moment, she panicked at what to do, what to say, but she needn’t have. The man weakly spoke one word.

_“Hannah..”_

And then he began to fall into the entryway, only saved from face planting onto the hardwood by her quick reaction to catch him. Out of instinct, she caught him, expecting to feel the strain of his weight on her slight frame. But to her surprise, the man felt like he weighed no more than a wet blanket. She was suspicious that the soaked hood was what made up the majority of the weight. Perhaps holding the ever growing Nero had given her some muscle strength?  
“Sir...sir?” she asked, in increasing panic, but no response. The man was limp, and aside from a slight muffled groan, he could be mistaken for dead.

Even though he was wrapped up, she knew he was probably cold and wet, and she half carried, half dragged him to the living room, and hefted him onto the couch, water damage be damned. She didn’t even shut the front door, there were far more important things to focus on. She needed to get him out of that soaking wet hood, and wrapped him in something dry and warm, before he succumbed to hypothermia. She shifted him slightly, removed his clumsily tied hood, and gasped.

First, she was appalled at how gaunt he was. His cheekbones stuck out, his collarbones protruded, and she thought if she didn’t pay attention, he'd slip between the couch cushions.

Secondly, his body was covered in black, swirling, and strangely beautiful tattoos. Perhaps it was because of the flashing lighting, but she could almost swear the tattoos moved.   
And thirdly, and most importantly, that aside from that hood, the man was completely nude. To Hannah, this was the second man’s body she’d seen naked, and the two could not be more different. Vergil was toned and had unblemished, pale skin. This man’s skin, where the tattoos didn’t cover it, there were jagged thin white scars, as if he was a cracked porcelain vase that had been repaired. Vergil had soft white hair, this man’s was lanky and black. But even then, despite the differences, there was something familiar about him, although she swore she’d never met him before. And he was attractive, in his own way...

“K, you can stop ogling the guy, it’s kinda embarrassing,” a rough voice spoke out, and she nearly shrieked. When she had opened the door, it had just been the man, and she would have sworn if he had companions, she’d have seen them. Her head swung around in panic.

“First things first...don’t panic, okay lady? We ain’t gonna to hurt you, we’re here to help V, and causing a scene won’t help the guy.”

Her head swung around, and came face to face with a bird with beady yellow eyes, sitting on the living room lampshade. Well, it _looked_ like a bird, but not even the most ravenous seagull had ever grown to that size. And no bird ever had the power of speech.   
“W-we?” She asked timidly. She could probably take on the bird on her own, despite his size, but if there was another…

“Yeah, my business partner here, we’re here to keep V’s skinny ass up and running, speaking of which…” he cocked his head and turned towards the door.

“Hey Shadow, close the door! You think this is a Geyron stable?” A deep rumble came from the darkness, and her blood froze as it resonated in her chest. Apparently, the growls were a form of speech, as the bird responded.

“Well, _I’m_ sorry, I just have wings, kinda hard to grab doorknobs, V’s out of commission, and I’m not going to ask our lovely hostess to move. She’s too busy keeping her eye,” he cawed-or was that a cackle? “On V here, so be a good kitty, and **_Shut. The. Damn. Door_ ** **.** ” And now the bird’s voice lost its geniality, and sounded dark and threatening.

A reluctant grumble, and the quiet swish and click of her door closing indicated that the bird’s threat had been effective. What sounded like the soft pad of paws, came closer, like a cat...except much, MUCH bigger.

And how right she was, as a black shape slunk into the room. Yes, it was a giant cat, at first glance, a panther, except when it growled, (not at her, it was totally focused on the bird), a glow of crimson swirls rippled from its snout to the tip of its tail. Swirls that looked strangely similar to the tattoos of the unconscious man. 

“Just behave…” the bird warned, “V needs us, and getting kicked out won’t be good for him.” He turned back to Hannah, frozen with fear. These creatures, whatever they were, together could rip her apart. Her heart nearly stopped beating. If they found out about Nero…

“So, my name’s Griffon, the brains of this little operation,” the sound of what could pass as a laugh came from the cat, and the bird glared, “and this my clown of an associate is Shadow. We’re V’s...uh...what do you humans call it...?” he flapped down to the back of the couch, peering at the man, “Support animals? Yeah, I guess that’s the term. Yeah, we’re the reason he made it to your doorstep.”

“Wh-where...who…”

“No time for questions, not sure V would appreciate us having a job interview over his naked body.”  
That was enough to unlock her muscles. Fear for the safety of the vulnerable man overrode the fear for the safety to herself. It was just in her nature, to put others before herself, and it had gotten her into a rather delicate situation before, but this time, it could end up far more serious. But still, she couldn’t have it on her conscience to have this man so vulnerable, so she grabbed her reading blanket, and she hastily covered the man...this V.

Cautiously, she placed two fingers on his neck, checking for a pulse. To her great relief, it was still there, strong and true. And already, out of his frigid soaking wet clothes, his breathing became more noticeable and steady. This was good. Of course she would contact a doctor if his condition worsened, but how to explain a naked man in her home, especially with her reputation?

”Well, looks like he’s doing better,” Griffon concurred with her assessment, and began to preen himself. “Good thing V stayed on his feet, not even Kitty could track you down. That ring of yours did what he said it would do, we’d have been dragging his scrawny ass right past your place.”

That rung alarm bells. “Wait a moment, how did you know about the ring….or more importantly, how did HE know. I haven’t told anyone about it, the only person who knew was…” She glanced back at him. V was a strange name, even for a mainlander. It had to be a pseudonym, like Verg-. Her thoughts snapped to a conclusion that was so unbelievably preposterous, yet both her mind and her heart seemed to not let go of it.

“Ehhh,” Griffon looked suddenly uncomfortable, well as uncomfortable as a bird could. Shadow seemed to be distracted as they licked their paw to groom their head.

“Might want to wait until our buddy wakes up. He’s the guy with the answers, humans tend to side eye words coming from dem-“ he didn’t finish because Shadow swatted him. What was that word that had been cut off? _Demons?_ The blood ran cold in her veins, and her previous terror returned. She had never been familiar with the types of denizens of the underworld, but she had never seen nor heard of demons this shape, let alone ones that had the power of speech. But hadn’t they said that the ring, designed to hide the wearer from demons, had obscured her from them? And yet, they had made no threats to her, nor to their human companion.

A wheezy groan came from the couch and the blanket stirred. Griffon seemed awfully relieved at both the recovery, and the distraction.

“Hey there, sleeping beauty! Glad to have you back!” 

The man’s eyes slowly opened, revealing deep green. Why was part of her saddened that they weren’t ice blue?

He slowly propped himself on his elbows as he slowly scanned the room, from the bird, to the cat, then to the furniture, his eyes snapping from the lamp to the rocking chair, as if he was familiar with the room, before settling on her. For a brief moment both just stared, both unable, or unwilling to speak first.

“Jeesh, it’s more awkward than that time Malphas was molting. Will SOMEONE just say something?” This got a sharp glare from V, yet he still did not speak.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, trying to break the ice. After all, the man’s health was much more important than feelings of embarrassment.

“A bit weak...but better.” His voice was hesitant, awkward, clenching at the blanket. “How are you, Hannah?”

“G-good...have we met before? I’m sorry, there’s a lot of people I’m in contact with, I sometimes forget faces.” To her surprise, his face fell, as he pulled the blanket a bit closer, it almost looked like she had hurt him by saying that, before he contained his emotions under a steel facade.

“I suppose,” he admitted, “We have...and we have not.” What she

“Oh god… this is embarrassing…” she could hear Griffon mutter.

V ignored him, and he took a deep breath. “You remember a man named Vergil, correct?”

She swore her heart stopped at the implication. There was no way…

“The thing is...I am, or rather _was_ him.” A flash of lightning illuminated the room, no doubt revealing her shock and doubt, so he continued. “It is hard to explain, but something happened, something as result of my overconfidence...my weakness,” he scowled, the furrow on his brow reminding her of a man sitting at her desk, trying to decipher a particularly ancient script. “What the result is this shell of a man...barely able to stand on his own without the assistance of others. One that somehow managed to make it to the only place he-I could feel safe. I’m not sure how I ended up on Fortuna, but for some reason I felt pulled here.”

She didn’t know what to say. This man, at first glance, looked nothing, in fact, quite the opposite to the man she had given her heart to. It was true, he looked fragile, weak, and almost helpless compared to that nearly intimidating strength that Vergil had emanated. But there was something, a je ne sais quois, that made her feel that there was more to this man, that he spoke the truth.

Another flash of lightning, so close that it momentarily blinded her, was immediately followed by a deafening BOOM of thunder, that rattled the glass on the windows, and everyone flinched, even V. She had a sinking feeling that the old oak in the square, not far away, had met its end.

After the ringing in her ears had faded, it was replaced with something just as high pitched. The frightened wail of Nero. She wasn’t the only one, as Griffon, (who was trying to act as if that clap of thunder hadn’t bothered him, and failing miserably) squawked in alarm/

“What the hell…?”

“Nero!” and without thinking at all, she raced to their little shared bedroom to comfort her frightened little boy. He was unconsolable at first, sobbing loudly in her arms, no doubt terrified of the violence going on outdoors.

“It’s alright, my little prince...I’m here, you’re safe...I won’t let anyone hurt you.” She softly cooed to her son. It took a few minutes for him to settle down, and yet he didn’t fall back asleep, his eyes wide and alert. And as she cuddled him, her thoughts went back to the man who was most likely still laying on her couch, with his animal companions. The man who claimed to be the very same man that had left her doorstep a year back, without a backwards glance, but she had sensed a strong reluctance. The man, if he was telling the truth, was her little boy’s father. Hadn’t she been wishing, hoping, praying to the Saviour that she could find him? And when V said he had felt ‘pulled’ here, did that imply that some outside force was aiding her?  
Well, it couldn’t be helped. Nero was not going to go back to sleep, and V couldn’t just be abandoned like that, so, after taking a deep steadying breath, walked back to the living room.

V hadn’t moved, aside from sitting up a bit straighter, the blanket pulled even tighter around himself.

“Wait...when you said you _knew_ her...I didn’t think you meant it THAT way! You actually took that stick out of your butt and-” Griffon was saying before being roughly shoved by V off the couch. Pausing at the threshold of the room for a moment, she sat in the rocking chair, a bit farther away from the trio, as if the distance would protect her. Thankfully, Shadow looked at her puzzingly with a strangely cute cocked head, Griffon was still grumbling as he tried to get back both to his perch, and his dignity, and V…

V just stared at her, then to the bundle, then back at her. There was no way, even in the darkened room, that he could not see the puff of white hair, and if he had been the man she had fallen in love with (it took a long time, but eventually she admitted that her heart had been correct, long after Vergil had left), there was no way he hadn’t already made the connection. Still, she expected him to act like everyone else on the island, and immediately interrogate her about her son’s parentage. His first two questions threw her off.

“His name is Nero?”

“Yes, it’s a name that’s been in my family for generations.” If her son, when he was older, wanted a name of his own, he could switch to his middle name, Adrien. Aside from distant second and third cousins who she had seen maybe once or twice in her lifetime, she had no family aside from her son, so she wanted something to pass down to him, something to know that he was part of something bigger. 

The second question shocked her even more.

“May I...may I hold him?” Never, in the past three months, had anyone ever genuinely requested to hold the child. Everyone who had taken him, had done it because they were obligated to, like doctors and nurses, or the people at the market had only done so because the pressure of morality and etiquette was overwhelming, like when Hannah had her arms full with groceries. And everytime, Nero would cry uncontrollably, until he was (eagerly) thrust back into her arms, as if it was a game of Hot Potato. It was hurtful, but she secretly felt relieved having him back, safe from any possible danger.  
So, it was to her great surprise, she found herself slowly pushing herself out of the rocking chair, and making her way to the couch. Shadow backed away, in order to give her some space. Cautiously, she placed her most precious son in the man’s arms, and despite the thinness of his limbs, Nero looked like he naturally fit, as if he was supposed to be there all along. V’s eyes never left the face of the boy, whose blue eyes peered up at the newcomer.

She froze, waiting for the adorable scene to be shattered by Nero’s inevitable wail, when he realized his mother was no longer holding him. But that moment never came, instead she heard a happy gurgle as the man hesitantly stroked his cheek with a long slender finger. Nero gripped that finger, and gave a gummy smile.

“Hello Nero,” she heard V speak softly, his eyes never leaving the baby. The baby that deep down, she knew had finally found his father. She didn’t know how, or what happened, but she had no doubt that she would get an explanation in time. For now, she was content, the storm dying down outside, happy with her little family. 

_Now a little bit bigger._

_A little more strange._

_A bit more whole._

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to think that the story plays out similar to Human Heart, save for Nero has his mom for his childhood. And that at the end the newly reformed Vergil apologizes to Hannah that it took him so long to come back.
> 
> "Nonsense," she says as she holds him close. "You've been here with me the entire time."


End file.
